


The Other Side

by CreamoCrop



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Alternate Timelines, F/M, Sci-Fi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 18:00:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreamoCrop/pseuds/CreamoCrop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was said that with every choice that a person is confronted with, a hundred new realities are created. In a way, there is no reality. Everyone is just living a version of a version.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, new story. Completely unbetaed and out-of-the blue

**What would you see if you look at the other side?**

* * *

Sherlock is in the middle of an emotional turmoil. He had just gotten back from the dead and as could be expected, he did not receive a warm welcome. In fact, John had punched him and had warned him not to get near him for at least a few days or until he gets over the fact that he mourned for  _nothing_. Lestrade punched him in the other cheek, called him an  _outright git_ and then walked away. Mrs. Hudson slapped him, called him awful, told him he's not welcome anymore in 221B and slammed the door to his face. But she then opened it again after a few seconds and pulled him in a bear hug. Molly, who knew he was alive all this time, had the most peculiar reaction. She merely stood at the sidelines and silently watched as he got punched by John, but she didn't rush to his side when he was knocked on the ground nor did she try to defend him or explain on his behalf. She was still there as he got punched  _again_ and she still didn't rush to his side when he kissed the ground for a second time. When their eyes finally met, she simply smiled, nodded and then walked away.

His tired and beaten body collapsed on his old chair by the fireplace. He won against Moran, succeeded in wiping out Moriarty's network, and had restored his name, but at the back of his mind he was questioning if it was all worth it. His name was soiled, he jumped off a roof, suffered physical pain for years only to what? Get punched twice, slapped once and cast away by people he  _died_ for? His thoughts raced into tangents until he was faced with an old question that had long haunted him.

_Was being a genius worth it?_

_'What do you think?'_

He jumped as a voice answered from the shadows. Quickly, he was up on his feet and was demanding for the intruder to come out and show himself. The shadows moved and slowly, a figure emerged from the dark. Sherlock's eyes widened as light from the fireplace bathed the foreign body.

Standing in front of him, face to face, was  _him._

He was looking at a face that he sees everyday in front of the mirror. Same wild curls, haunted eyes, tall nose and cupid bow lips. The only difference was that the apparition was sporting a leather jacket, plain blue jumper, black trousers and trainers. The other man looked like an everyday Jack.

Sherlock's brain demanded for an explanation. In the corner of his mind, he thought he finally lost it.

' _Oh no. You're not insane. No, wait. You_ _ **are**_ _insane, but not in the way that you are thinking right now._ '

The spectre spoke, but despite it's assurance, the mere fact that it could  _speak_ , much more that it could speak with  _his voice_ , only drove the nail further into the angle of insanity.

_'Wait, that came out wrong. Sorry. What I mean is that you are not really crazy, like mental-hospital crazy. You are just insane in a sense that you are a genius. Did that make sense? I hope it did.'_

If there is one thing that assured Sherlock that he did not relapse to drugs and that he is not seeing a hallucination, was the obvious difference in speech pattern and choice of words of the… _thing_. He will never speak like that.

' _Oh come on, don't call me a thing!_ '

Also, his hallucination would never whine like that.

' _I'll accept hallucination, although I prefer spectre. It's more mysterious._ '

The fact though, that this  _thing_ could read his mind, is making him reconsider the hallucination theory.

_'I'm not really reading your mind because I am you and you are me, so we are technically sharing the same mind frequency although we are working on different planes._ _**But** _ _the hallucination angle is still up for debate.'_

Sherlock's eyes narrowed as his mind tried to process what was just said, but he settled to thinking that he is only talking to himself in some brain-induced situation. It had happened befor. He looked around his flat and wondered since when did he fall back to his mind palace?

_'Well you are not really talking to yourself because we are not really one and the same. But, as I said before,_ _**I am you** _ _aaaaand_ _**you are me.** _ _Only, I exist in a different universe and you exist in_ _**this** _ _reality.'_

Sherlock opened his mouth to question the logic behind that sentence but he was cut-off by the spectre.

_'What is happening now has everything to do with logic. Though I suspect that it is something that you won't easily understand since the nature of reality has not been fully discovered yet, in this time.'_

The crease in between Sherlock's brow only deepened, but he remained silent as he could see that the  _spectre_ or  _whatever it is_ , isn't quite finished yet.

 _"I told you, I am_ _ **you**_ _and not a_ _ **whatever-it-is.**_ _But let's just move on shall we? I don't really have much time. No, that's not quite true also, because in truth, Time does not exist. But you…you are still confined to your perception of Time so you are the one who doesn't have…well,_ _ **time.**_ _Let's just get on shall we?_ '

Before Sherlock could protest, or block the action, the other him had grabbed his hand and the whole room instantly became blindingly bright.

The next thing he knew, he was standing in the sidewalk outside of Speedy's. People were rushing around minding their own business, cars were honking and weaving their way through traffic and Molly Hooper is walking towards him.

"Hey Sherlock!"

"Good morning Molly."

He answered.

Except…it wasn't really him who answered, because he was still too stunned with the previous events and his lips had remained glued the entire time.

The voice which answered came from behind him. He turned around but immediately regretted it, because he was again hit by the same feeling of panic and confusion. For the second time today, he was staring at the eyes of another  _him._ This time though,  _this Sherlock_ is wearing a faded Beatles shirt and jeans.

However, before he could voice his confusion for the  _nth time,_ he felt suction in his midsection, and to his immense horror, he looked down and watched as Molly Hooper walked  _through_ him.

It did not end there.

Molly Hooper  _walked through him_ and straight into the waiting arms of the Beatles clad Sherlock who happily encircled his arms around the petite pathologist, before bending down and giving her a short kiss  _in the mouth._

As if things have not reached the peak of weirdness, Sherlock felt an arm hook around his shoulders. He turned his head to his side, and realized that the arm was from the earlier leather-clad spectre.

 _'Welcome to London 2010, the Other Reality, where the Sherlock Holmes who exists is not a genius but is still quite brilliant at his work as a consultant. He also goes to Tesco to buy milk, takes the Tube and happily kisses his girlfriend in the middle of a busy side walk._ '

The spectre patted the stunned Sherlock.

' _So, shall we watch his life?_ '


	2. Chapter 2

_'Have you ever, in your entire life, thought that it might benefit you more if_ _**you shut up?** _ _'_

"If I shut up, none of my cases will be solved."

_'Right. Yes, that's…that's actually a valid point. But have you ever considered,_   _that maybe…_ _ **just maybe,**_ _if you shut-up now, this will be less tedious than you claim it to be?_ '

"How can I possibly shut up. That man is an idiot."

_'That_ _**idiot** _ _is named Sherlock Holmes. That_ _**idiot** _ _is_ _**you** _ _in this reality._ _**You** _ _are insulting_ _**that idiot.** _ _Do you want me to continue with my line of logic here? Because we both know that if_ _**A** _ _is equal to_ _**B and B** _ _is equal to_ _**C then A** _ _is equal to_ _**C,** _ _and since_ _**A** _ _is equal to_ _**idiot,** _ _what does that make_ _**C?** _ _'_

" **C** is actually an  **A** that lives in an alternate universe wherein he is a  _genius_ who could easily see that there are scratches in the man's shoes that denotes a careless maid who was cleaning it during the time of death and therefore have an alibi! Unfortunately,  **C** is dragged into idiotic  **A's** world by an equally  _idiotic_ _ **D**_ _._ "

_'Fuck you.'_

" **D** who has a  _wonderful_  way with words."

_'Just watch, okay! We are not here for the case. We are here for him and his life that you are missing out!'_

Sherlock rolled his eyes at the spectre but he remained silent as they watched the  _other_ Sherlock try to solve the murder case. It was a 5 in Sherlock's scale, but the other him was taking longer than necessary because he does not see what Sherlock sees. The other him was not a genius. The other him wears the forensic gear handed by Donovan. The other him checks on Anderson's wife, promises Lestrade to give an update and asks about John's new date as they walk away from the crime scene.

The Sherlock in this world politely greets Mycroft over the phone, asks about Mummy's health and promises to come for dinner next week. He did not notice the change in Mycroft's voice as the older Holmes talked about their mother. He did not realize that Mycroft was already hinting about Mummy's worsening condition.

This Sherlock sits beside John as they take the Tube home. He did not deduce that the man sitting in front of him was cheating on his wife. Or that the woman on the other side was a recovering alcoholic.

He and the spectre observed as the alternate Sherlock walk up the steps to his flat, but not before dropping by Mrs. Hudson's to deliver her box of groceries that was left in the hall. He watched as  _this_ Sherlock got enveloped in a warm hug and sent on his merry way with freshly baked Madelines. He looked as the other Sherlock leave without realizing that Mrs. Hudson had just had a guest. Someone whose profile fits that of the owner of Speedy's.

On and on, they would watch as the other him live out his  _ordinary_ life. Together with the spectre, he would stand by a corner and look as  _this_ Sherlock struggle through living without the aid of a brilliant mind that could easily get him out of his petty problems. He has mediocre skills in playing the violin, he needs to carry around a notepad because he sometimes forgets details about his cases and he constantly consults with various people who are considered experts of their fields.

Days would pass as Sherlock watch the other version of him. He would cringe when the other Sherlock doesn't ask the right questions or fails to make the connections. He would yell and ruffle his hair in frustration over the other's obliviousness. There are times when he feels like grabbing the man's shoulders and shake him until his genius comes out. Sherlock would complain to the spectre about the other's inadequacies. At first he couldn't believe that there would be a  _him_ that can't identify the differences between less than five tobacco ashes. There were times when he almost wanted to deny the existence of the other Sherlock.

But still, he continued to watch.

Because even though the other Sherlock needs to ask for help from other people, he gets answers, he gets the  _help._ Even if he forgot details, there was John to happily fill the blanks for him. Even if he skips some notes and does not have proper fingering, this Sherlock have a Molly who sits silently and watches with a smile.

This Sherlock was happy.

On the fifth night since they had began to watch, Sherlock and the spectre found themselves outside a restaurant. The other him and Molly were out on a dinner date.

_'Look at how happy they are.'_

Molly was laughing at something that the other him had said. Sherlock realized that he rarely heard his Molly laugh like that. The pair have their hands intertwined and occasionally, the other Sherlock would raise her hand and kiss her knuckles. Sherlock briefly wondered if his Molly' had hands that were callused from constantly wielding a scalpel. Surely, this other Sherlock would know.

During the appetizer, there was even more laughter.

_'He looks different than you.'_

When the main course was served, a few kisses had already been exchanged.

_'They are so in-love.'_

Before dessert, there was a slight commotion because of a simple diamond band sitting on top of the chocolate gateau. She was crying and he was on his knees. In the end, she nodded and pulled him into an intense kiss.

_'You never had that.'_

The night ended with Sherlock and the spectre standing outside Molly's apartment. The couple had just gotten out of the cab and although they had spent a few minutes snogging outside, eventually, they made their way into the apartment. Sherlock made a move to follow them, but the spectre immediately pulled him back.

_'Sorry old boy, we are not going to play peeping Toms tonight.'_

So instead, Sherlock found himself in a dark alleyway, looking at Molly's curtained windows as two shadows melted into one.

_'You will never have that.'_

* * *

"I want to…"

* * *

He tried blocking the sun's rays with his hands as its blinding light assaulted his sleepy eyes. Slowly sitting up, Sherlock allowed his eyes to adjust while he squints around to look at his room. With a big yawn, he leaned on his headboard and waited for the fog of sleep to lift from his head.

However, the peace was broken by his door opening slowly to reveal a small body in blue. As Sherlock's mind began to focus, a pleasant voice rang through the air.

"Oh good, Mr Sleepyhead is awake. Come on, breakfast is ready."

Soft hands cupped his face as his mind registered the smiling face of Molly Hooper standing in front of him, wearing only his blue dress shirt.

For a moment, his slate was blank. No thoughts passed across his skull as his brain absorbed the image in front of him.

"Sherlock, come on! I'm hungry."

Her small hands slowly left his face as she began to turn around. As if a spell was broken, he snapped into action and quickly pulled her towards him and his lips crashed against hers in a passionate kiss.

"Woah. Sherlock love, what is up with you?" She said during the small time that she was able to break away from his kiss.

He wasted no reply as he pulled her closer to him in another round of hungry kiss. Eventually though, they both needed air and had to break apart. He rested his forehead against hers as they tried to take in as much air as they can.

"Come on now, what is really happening with you?" She asked as she cleared away a stray curl.

"Nothing, I just had this bad dream where I was a genius detective who solved fantastic crimes." His grip tightened around her hips.

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"I was not happy and I didn't have you."

* * *

"...have that too"

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am marking this complete for now but I know this still has something to give. I'm just waiting for my muse to decide, but I'm already quite happy as it is.
> 
> Also, I love sassy Sherlock-spectre so I know I'm not going to be able to drop him that easily!
> 
> I hope you do too. Let me know :)


End file.
